


of money and desire

by Verabird



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Begging, Bloodplay, Choking, Gags, Groping, Humiliation, Kidnapping, Knifeplay, M/M, Rope Bondage, Slapping, Tears
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2019-05-31 12:55:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15119831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Verabird/pseuds/Verabird
Summary: The dark night cloaks what Montparnasse intends to take. He will ensure that Marius is prepared to give it.It is merely a criminal venture, a financial investment, nothing more, nothing less.





	of money and desire

**Author's Note:**

  * For [plutonianshores](https://archiveofourown.org/users/plutonianshores/gifts).



Montparnasse watched the solitary firefly that darted in a gentle curve round the back of the alley crates and towards the smooth iron lamp posts. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d seen a firefly besides fanciful paintings and he considered it a particularly romantic sight. It wouldn’t make up for what they were about to do, Montparnasse knew that, but there was something about its delicate glow and soft edges that comforted him on some level he couldn’t quite understand. He smiled to himself, just baring teeth, as his hands rapidly flipped a slim knife from palm to palm.

“Would you stop fidgeting?”

Montparnasse’s attention was drawn to the man beside him. He had barely moved an inch since they arrived at their hiding place. Claquesous was akin to a shadow, still as a statue and cloaked in black, he looked like one of the burnt Rodin’s that rested on a bronze stump in the Musée d’Orsay. Montparnasse remembered fondly the fine evening he had spent at the museum’s inauguration in the company of barons, drifting between tables of wine and tables of meat, gazing at paintings and young rich men. Sometimes the best crimes were as simple as slipping in back doors that were meant to be locked.

“I’m not fidgeting,” Montparnasse replied through his teeth. “Don’t pretend you noticed.”

“I notice everything,” Claquesous said grimly. He pointedly glanced at Montparnasse who saw the whites of his eyes gleam behind the soft black silk of his mask. Montparnasse tilted his head to the side, his lips slipping into a snide smile. With a swift motion he whipped a hand out from beneath his coat and grasped the front of Claquesous’s trousers, his palm pressing against his groin and squeezing tight.

“Notice that?” He said with a cynical smile and an infuriating lilt. “I know you’re impatient, but it won’t be long now.”

Claquesous shoved Montparnasse’s hand away from him and Montparnasse saw his brow furrow. “Get off me, you’ll compromise everything we’ve waited for.”

“I doubt it. You haven’t seen this one. I’m not a cruel man, but I would describe him as pathetic and useless.” Montparnasse grinned. “You can see for yourself. Like a lamb to slaughter.”

Claquesous looked up and followed Montparnasse’s gaze. A young man, dressed in a shabby coat and hat was exiting the building before them. They’d waited a long time, and though the evening was gentle enough, Claquesous had indeed grown impatient. He turned his weary gaze to Montparnasse.

“He doesn’t look like much.”

“He doesn’t dress particularly well no.” Montparnasse was amused if nothing else. “But ignore his fashion, he hides a considerable amount of money and he has a rich family. We should be able to extract enough.”

“I don’t like the look of him.”

Montparnasse didn’t hide the rolling of his eyes. He tilted his neck from side to side, making an audible crack, then clutched the knife more firmly in his hand.

“Enough. Are you ready?”

“I often wonder if you rope me into these schemes for your own benefit and little of mine.”

“Of course.” Montparnasse smiled baring all his teeth giving him the air of a wolf under the moonlight. “What other reason could there be?”

Montparnasse tapped Claquesous on the shoulder, and in timely rhythm they stepped out from their concealed hiding place and approached Marius with an air of threatening authority. The effect was instant when Marius noticed them. He stopped completely, still as a rabbit with pricked up ears, and his lips parted slightly as he watched the two men come towards him.

“Messieurs? Can I help—”

Montparnasse shoved the knife to Marius’s throat while Claquesous pressed his hands over Marius’s wrists, drawing them swiftly behind his back.

“If you know what;s good for you boy, you won’t speak.”

A small squeak escaped Marius’s open mouth and Montparnasse shoved the knife tighter into the skin. He could see the crease it made visibly, it couldn’t have been comfortable.

“Please, I have money,” Marius croaked as Montparnasse choked him further.

“Money?” Montparnasse whispered, moving to breathe down Marius’s neck. “You think that is all we desire?”

Claquesous flashed a warning glance at Montparnasse. He’d finished tying Marius’s wrists behind him, tight and neat knots that wouldn’t be slipped from.

“We desire your money,” Claquesous said grimly. “Forgive my friend, he is insatiable.”

“Oh no, not quite.” Montparnasse smiled and grazed his teeth along Marius’s jaw bone. “I’m sure I will be satiated tonight.”

“Here in the alleyway?” Claquesous asked, an eyebrow raised.

Montparnasse didn’t answer. He leaned into Marius closer, the knife still pressed to his neck, his other hand sliding up Marius’s thigh, the tips of his slender fingers gently skirting across the clothed flesh. His hand reached Marius’s groin and he let his fingertips scatter softly across his cock.

“You’ll be good won’t you?” Montparnasse murmured into Marius’s ear, his hand beginning to squeeze and grope his cock beneath the fabric of his trousers. “We wouldn’t want this to get messy now would we.”

Montparnasse could hear the tense breath escaping Marius’s lungs. The man was already desperate. It was all too easy. Montparnasse wanted to scare him, see the wide whites of his eyes as he spread his hands over the lithe body of the young lawyer. Marius was terrified, trembling beneath his fingers. It was always the same, Montparnasse thought, they never wanted to die.

“Monsieur,” Marius choked out. “I’ll give you anything.”

“It is my intention to take everything.”

“I haven’t much on me Monsieur, but please, in my inside pocket, there is a small purse. Take it.”

“Mmm,” Montparnasse hummed softly, pausing in his groping to reach his hand up to touch Marius’s cheek. He placed his palm against Marius’s flushed face, he was bright red with shame and embarrassment, so quick too. Montparnasse traced Marius’s jawline, then touched his soft parted lips, using an index finger he pulled down on Marius’s bottom lip. Montparnasse so greatly enjoyed being the puppet master.

“I shall enjoy playing with you I think.”

“Montparnasse,” Claquesous hissed, the sound carrying through the night, the man’s voice appearing both behind and in front of Montparnasse. “We are not alone.”

Montparnasse gave Marius a firm look and pressed the knife closer still to his neck. “Don’t move.”

Montparnasse dropped his hand to his side and stepped backwards to better survey the alleyway. Claquesous was right, they had company. Unlikely to be law enforcement at this hour, but nonetheless they must be careful.

“Come on then,” He said to Claquesous, and before Marius could make a sound Montparnasse has his fist curled in his hair and was dragging him along by it.

Marius let out a high pitched shriek at the sudden sharp pain.

“For god’s sake,” Claquesous said, reaching forward to clap a hand over Marius’s mouth. “Be careful.”

Montparnasse shot a glance at Marius. “You make another sound and I will gut you like a river trout and leave you to bleed to death on this floor. Understand?”

Marius nodded quickly, his eyes were watering. He found himself dragged by the hair and pushed by his bound wrists, out from the alleyway, down another darkened side street, and into a more open clearing of houses. His eyes were darting left and right, desperate for any sign of a saviour, but the night had already fallen thick and there was no one there to save him. Down a second street was a carriage, the windows covered in heavy black curtains. The man perched at the front, his hands lazily clasping the reigns, turned down to look at the three men approaching.

“Took you long enough.”

“Hush now Babet.”

“I wait for you, I can talk.” Babet glanced down his nose at Marius. “This is him?”

Montparnasse didn’t grant him an answer, already Claquesous had opened the carriage door and was maneuvering Marius inside. Marius, realising that the carriage entailed further entrapment began to struggle at a greater rate than before, but he was held fast from all sides and next thing he knew Montparnasse’s knife was pressed against his lower back.

“I warned you,” Montparnasse hissed in his ear.

Marius moaned in despair as he moved to get away from the knife which inevitably led him into the carriage. A short while later Montparnasse had joined him, the door slammed, and the carriage set into motion.

Montparnasse looked at his prey, his eyes shining. “Monsieur Pontmercy,” He said in a low voice and Marius jumped in his seat. “I have been observing you for some time. Quite a fascinating young man.”

“You’ve been watching me?” Marius started to gnaw at his bottom lip, worrying it between his teeth. Occasionally he flashed desperate glances to Claquesous who he seemed to have decided was the more reasonable of the pair.

“I find you very interesting.” Montparnasse leaned across, breaking the space between them, and raised a hand to Marius’s throat. He pressed his palm against it, letting his fingers flutter round, until he had a solid grip. Marius let out a gasp. Montparnasse could feel his pulse racing beneath his fingertips.

“Money is always a pleasure, but sometimes pleasure is pleasure in itself.”

“I don’t understand,” Marius croaked out. He was frantic, struggling against his bound wrists, struggling to breathe.”

“It is very simple, I’m sure you will come to understand.”

Marius jumped suddenly as he felt a hand on his knee and he looked up to see Claquesous had let his hand wander and was now gently fondling Marius’s thighs, creeping dangerously close to his cock. The expression on his face was one of profound fear.

“Must you torment him?” Claquesous asked wearily. “The poor boy has a rough few days ahead of him, must you begin so strong?”

“It will give him a suitable taste of what is to come,” Montparnasse said firmly. He let his palm loosen slightly so that Marius could breathe with more ease, but then he leaned even closer, pressed his lips to Marius’s neck. Marius froze, it was suddenly intimate, suddenly even more unacceptable. Montparnasse’s hot breath scattered across his jaw, and then before he could begin to protest, Montparnasse shifted and pressed a kiss to Marius’s lips.

“Monsieur please,” Marius said, his voice barely audible. “Please don’t touch me in this way, I cannot—”

Montparnasse laughed softly, his hand creeping down to feel Marius’s cock still trapped beneath his trousers. He felt the revealing hardness. Marius felt a thumb softly brushing against his cheek. He was extraordinarily overwhelmed.

“There it is, it always comes eventually.”

“Poor thing,” Claquesous murmured, still absently groping Marius himself.

“Poor thing indeed,” Montparnasse echoed. He pulled back, eased off on his assault, and gave Marius an appraising look. “Would you like me to stop?”

Marius glanced up, his eyes watering at the pain and humiliation. He bit his lip as it quivered in shame. “Monsieur, please.”

“He does beg quite prettily,” Claquesous said, his voice low.

Montparnasse smiled. “It is very pleasing.” He took the handle of his knife in one hand and placed it under Marius’s chin, tilting his face up with the point.

“Monsieur, are you going to kill me?” Marius’s voice shook. “If you will, I must ask that you grant me a favour first.”

“So polite,” Montparnasse purred. “I haven’t been called ‘Monsieur’ this often since I was in the dock. A favour?”

“Yes Monsieur, I must send word to…someone, that I won’t be returning to them.”

“I have no intention of killing you,” Montparnasse said. “Not before I’ve taken what I deserve.”

“My grandfather has money.”

“I know.”

The carriage shook to a halt and Babet rapped the window sharply. Montparnasse’s head darted left and right as he surveyed the street from behind the thick curtains. Montparnasse looked back at Marius, the poor boy was so shaken that he looked as if he might faint. Every time he blinked his eyes seemed to close for slightly too long.

Marius hoped that he might see a friendly face waiting for him when they descended the carriage, someone he might call to for assistance, but the street was empty, deserted as the alley he had been snatched in. His heart sunk further. Claquesous’s fingers were entwined in the rope behind his back and shoving him forward towards a nondescript ramshackle building. There were no lights on inside.

“Make sure he’s secure,” Montparnasse said to Claquesous as he made his way into the house ahead of the strange party. He disappeared up the narrow staircase as Claquesous pulled Marius in the opposite direction.

“Monsieur, I do not think you are as violent as your friend,” Marius said plaintively. “I think you might wish to let me go?”

Claquesous ignored him and dragged him into a back room with boarded windows, an iron bedstead, and little else. Marius balked slightly, but Claquesous was stronger than him, and Babet was still bringing up the rear.

“If you have a conscience Monsieur, I beg of you, that you let this misunderstanding pass between us.”

Claquesous grabbed a fistful of Marius’s hair and spun him to face him, regarded him for a moment, then slapped him squarely in the face. The blow would have knocked Marius over were it not for the grip in his hair keeping him steady. He winced in pain and shock, and couldn’t stop a fresh wave of tears falling down his cheeks.

“I tire of hearing you speak,” Claquesous hissed. “You will be silent from now on.”

It was with a silent understanding that Babet nodded to Claquesous and then stepped forward to pin him. Marius began to struggle, but the hands were too strong. He felt Claquesous’s hands upon him, running lewdly down his body, and then hooking into the waistband of his trousers and tugging. He let out a small cry as he was roughly divested of his clothes.

“Please! Let me go and I will not report you!”

“You were told not to speak.”

Fresh tears ran over the old and Marius’s lips parted in despair. “Monsieur, I ask for my dignity.”

Claquesous sighed and with deft fingers fiddled with the knot at Marius’s neck and pulled off his cravat. He squeezed Marius’s jaw with one hand until his mouth parted and then slipped the cravat between his lips and pulled it into a tight knot. The silk dug into the corners of Marius’s mouth, and Claquesous regarded his work before pulling tighter and retying the knot.

“A considerable improvement,” He remarked with a smile. Then without warning he ran his hands down Marius’s body and let delicate fingers trace over his now free cock. His eyes sparkled as he took it in a tight grip and massaged it with rough fingers. Marius let out a tight moan from behind the gag and tried to push back but Babet’s strong hold was there to catch him. Claquesous gave a last squeeze then threw Marius onto the bed unceremoniously. Babet held his ankles in place as Claquesous tied them to the iron bed posts with rope that had been left in place. Marius’s wrists were untied from behind his back and retied above his head. He was now spread and vulnerable, naked, afraid. It was at this moment that Montparnasse returned, standing in the doorway like a vampiric spectre, his tongue running over his lips.

“He’s perfect,” Montparnasse murmured. “Helpless, just like that, of course there’s the money too, but this…” He moved closer and sat down on the edge of the bed, leaning across Marius to run his hands over his bare chest, pinch his nipples, playfully slap at his cheeks.

Montparnasse nodded to Babet who gave him a stiff look with gritted teeth before exiting the room. He turned to Claquesous about to give him the same look, but Claquesous interrupted.

“I intend to stay and watch,” He said quickly. “You can’t send me out.”

“I work best alone.”

“I don’t care. Look at him, you think I’m missing this?”

“He won’t be so pretty by the end of it.”

“I should hope so.”

Montparnasse smiled baring all his teeth. He pulled his knife from his pocket and pressed it flush to Marius’s neck.

“It’s very simple dear boy, I will ask you some questions and you will give me answers. Understand?”

The cloth of Marius’s cravat was darkening between his lips from wetness. His eyes were wide as he stared up at Montparnasse and his knife. He was unsure what to do, he couldn’t speak, it was an entirely unfair exercise.

Montparnasse pressed the knife in closer, nicking Marius’s neck, just enough to draw a small amount of blood. Marius let out a scream behind his gag, his eyes squeezing shut at the pain.

“That was nothing,” Claquesous said, amused. “You shouldn’t scream at paper cuts like that, you’ll only encourage him.”

“Firstly,” Montparnasse began, unperturbed. “I wish to know if this is a fool’s errand. You have money don’t you?”

Marius nodded quickly, his eyes flashing instinctively to his coat now lying on the floor that had been ripped from him earlier.

“Very good. I take it you have a small amount on you?”

Marius nodded again.

“But that is not all we are after. Your grandfather is rich, he cares about you for some unknown reason, but I believe that he cares enough to save you from a situation like this. Even if it meant paying through the nose. Am I correct?”

Marius paused for a fraction of a second then nodded furiously again.

“Well that is pleasant to hear.” Montparnasse smiled and rested back slightly. “With that out the way I’m sure you won’t mind if I have a little bit of fun in the meantime until he responds to our summons.”

He tilted his head to the side and gazed down at Marius. His hands were clasped into fists and were tensed up as if they were pulling against the tightness of the knots. He stared up at Montparnasse’s glinting eyes and shook his head slowly.

“What’s that? You disapprove of my fun? Well, that’s hardly your concern.”

Montparnasse dragged his knife up Marius’s thigh, not enough to cut, not yet. He stared Marius directly in the eyes and then traced the same line with his knife, this time leaving a scarlet line of red. Marius screamed, louder this time, his teeth clenched. Montparnasse laughed and immediately drew another line in Marius’s other thigh. Tears ran down Marius’s cheeks and soaked into the gag. He struggled hard against the bonds, but the ropes simply tightened into his skin, pinching his gentle flesh.

Every cut Montparnasse made seemed to take an eternity. He dragged his knife lazily over Marius’s smooth skin, painting in red all over his pale body. His fingers moved delicately, he was an artist, turned from small swift cuts up and down Marius’s legs and arms to long drawn out slashes across his chest.

Claquesous had moved closer to see better, bringing a candle with him. Montparnasse’s sharp features glowed in the amber darkness. Claquesous made a soft murmur of approval as Montparnasse painfully dragged the tip of his knife over the soft unbroken skin of the sole of one of Marius’s feet. Marius’s throat had gone hoarse, he had screamed out his vulnerable lungs and could only sob into the gag. He felt like he could barely breathe, sucking in what air he could through his nose. He felt a hand on his forehead, the sensation almost gentle, and then he noticed Claquesous gently brushing the stray curls from his forehead and tenderly stroking his hair. He whimpered at the unwelcome touch.

“You are cruel Montparnasse,” He said, not taking his eyes off Marius’s face contorted in pain. “It is quite the talent.”

“So I’ve been told. You approve then?” Montparnasse began to trace the knife over Marius’s cheeks, holding the blade so lightly in his hand that there was very little pressure on his skin at all. Marius shut his eyes, squeezed them closed.

“Of course I approve. It is a skill few possess, and it shall yield results.”

Montparnasse laughed. “We could have cuffed him to a chair and let him cry the night out and not so much as touched a hair on his pretty head. The money would still have come.”

“The money, of course, yes, the money would have fallen into our laps, but that is not what I was considering.”

Montparnasse gave Claquesous a sly glance and flicked the knife suddenly so that a gash of red appeared on Marius’s cheek. He let out a pitiful moan, no longer having the strength to scream, as tears mingled with the blood now dripping down his cheeks.

Claquesous was sitting on one side of Marius and Montparnasse on the other, and now they stared at each other intently above the struggling boy beneath them. Montparnasse used his other hand to press a thumb into the fresh cut on Marius’s cheek, kneading it into the wound. Marius found the energy to scream at this. Claquesous didn’t appear concerned in the least, quite the opposite, the sound of Marius’s screams had incited something within him.

Montparnasse kept one hand at Marius’s face, touching his wet lips with his fingertips, brushing a thumb over his cut cheek, and resting against his neck with a firm palm, as he leaned across the bed and bridged the gap between himself and Claquesous. It was violent and intense and swift and as soon as they broke apart Montparnasse’s attention turned immediately back to his knife and Marius. When Marius passed out from the pain Montparnasse slapped his face until he roused again, and then continued with his onslaught. Claquesous continued to watch, one hand absently playing in Marius’s hair, tugging and stroking, the other hand groping Marius’s cock.

The pair of them sitting over Marius’s naked body, pale and painted with blood, looking like a ritual sacrifice; there was beauty in that. The sparkling white of Montparnasse’s eyes and teeth every time he smiled, the low burning candle that flickered slightly every time Marius struggled particularly hard, unspoken between them both was the notion that there was something quite romantic in it.


End file.
